Laughter
by Efflorescent Vagabond
Summary: Ranma takes note of Akane's miraculously obscene mannerisms while laughing. A tale told through the mindframe of our infamous and stubborn pig-tailed protagonist.


She claps her hands like an otter when she finds something really funny and she can't help but laugh till her sides hurt.

_She's so uncute._

_But still..._

He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, his arms folded.

He did love the way her whole demeanor brightened. The way salty tears welled up at the corners of her eyes and glistened like crystals hanging from her dark lashes. How she couldn't seem to contain this overwhelming, bubbly feeling as she let loose high pitched tumbles of laughter. Or even how she seemed to completely let her guard down in front of him. So unafraid to be her careless, dorky self. So unafraid of looking ridiculous in his eyes. So comfortable... So intimate.

_Stop,_ he scolded himself.

There he went again, getting all mushy and lame. How could something as simple as laughing like a circus-freak sea animal be seen as charming and romantic? _It's not_, he denied. He dared sneak another look. This time, she was sitting quietly, contently. Her eyes back on the television with a lazy, sated smile on her lips. _Typical Akane. Loud and obnoxious one minute, calm and quiet the next._

But if he conceded stubbornly to himself, it's not like he didn't enjoy seeing her laugh like that. Especially if it was because _he_ made her laugh. In fact, he loved making her laugh, when they weren't at each other's throats, that is. Usually he would say some sarcastic, quick-witted comment under his breath, poking fun at his father during dinner, or provoking Kuno in the courtyard at school. Really he was only voicing his thoughts, but she always seemed to hear him, and she would always turn to him with a look in her eye that was meant to scold, although the corners of her lips would quiver with the threat of laughter that stated otherwise.

And when it wasn't what he was saying, it was what he was _doing_. It was little things, his mannerisms, he supposed, his expressions, his reactions. He didn't really understand, but somehow, she found him funny, even when he didn't mean to be. It was the look on his face, she would tell him. "It's just that... You're always making these silly faces and you don't even realize it." And that would ruffle his feathers, yes, it really would. He found it strangely insulting. What was wrong with his face, huh? It's not like he meant to make expressions that evoked laughter. He deemed himself a handsome guy, so what was it about his face that just... Set her into a fit of giggles? She would assuage his hurt ego, "It's not a bad thing. It's a good thing, really." Oh, yeah, cause that helped.

Little by little he would ponder this. He realized that she always seemed to be watching him one way or another. _Maybe my face really is that funny,_ he accepted after a while. He didn't really mind, not that much anyway... If it made her laugh like that.

Then there were times that he would go out of his way to make her laugh. He would tell her funny stories about when he would go off to train with his father. About how he would play tricks on his old man. Rubbing poison ivy in his newly washed and drying robes; placing worms in his sleeping bag right before bed- his father screaming like a little girl as they crawled down his pants. Akane would laugh at the nostalgic, albeit slightly cruel memories, and she would do this thing where she felt the need to push him as she laughed that high, loud laugh. She would even hit him on the arm sometimes, her eyes closed as she sucked in gulps of breath to pace herself. He would rub the assaulted arm with a wince, one of the only moments he would really let her get away with that macho, tomboyish violence of hers. Other times she would hang onto him, as if what he had just said was funny enough to blow her away. And he would watch her laugh, a soft smirk forming on his lips. When she wiped at the wetness in the corner of her eyes and sighed girlishly, he would wait for her to finish with arms crossed over his chest and an unforgiving and mocking raised brow as if to say, _"Are you done?"_ Feigning forced tolerance that suggested he was the only mature one in the room after her little displays of discomposure.

Yeah, he might have acted like her laughter was childish and absurd, _which it was._ But in the end... It's not like he was really complaining. A silly grin bloomed on his face as he watched her break down into another round of giggles, barely able to talk as she pulled on his hand and pointed to the television in a roundabout way of getting him to laugh at the no doubt stupid joke that was said on God knows what show.

Nope, he wasn't complaining at all.


End file.
